Battle For the Sun
by JennaBlake
Summary: Violet sent Tate away, but forever is any awfully long time.
1. Chapter 1

I'm just not done with these two yet. That they aren't going to be in season two is unforgivable. Their story is far from over. So here's my take.

_5 Years after the season finale…_

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><p><strong>Tate's POV<strong>

I honestly can't say why I did it. I'd killed my stepfather because he was a bastard and I was already a monster. I'd killed those kids because I wanted to die. I'd killed the fags because at the time, I'd thought it was necessary, for Nora. Everyone else, they were just in the way somehow. But what I did to her Mom, to Violet's Mother? Not even Nora could persuade me enough to do it. So why did I? It's something I have to understand for myself before I can make Violet understand, if she ever will. It's something I've been digging at for the last five years, since she'd sent me away. But it's also something I'm afraid to unearth because if I'm honest with myself, there's a part of me that believes I may have done it _because of_ _her_, in spite of her, in spite of myself. I sometimes let myself think that, that I was punishing myself because it makes a lot of sense. But then I remember the look on Violet's face when she'd found out- the pain, the betrayal, the hate- and I realise that even that is a cop out. I did it because I am a monster, _because I could_. This was my house, my home and these people were new and loud and represented everything I hated in society. A psychologist with more problems than his clients and a pro-planet wife who cared more about her dead child than the one that was still living. I'd hated them. I wanted to screw with them. I didn't love Violet yet, she was just another disturbance. How I could have ever overlooked her like that, I won't understand again, but I had. So I had done what I had done and I will regret it forever. But that isn't enough. Saying I'm sorry means nothing- there is nothing I can say or do to make it better, to fix it. Nothing.

"Tate?" my voice is called in a disgruntled whisper from somewhere above me. Violet's room. My stomach clutches up painfully, my eyes slide shut and in a moment I forget about the promises I'd made myself, made her- to stay away- and I'm opening them to find myself looking down at Violet- asleep under her covers. She'd been dreaming… it was only a dream- about me? It must be a nightmare.  
>"Tate" she speaks my name again so clearly this time I panic and almost get the hell out of there but then she breathes in deeply and sinks further into her pillow. Still asleep.<br>I take a few precautionary steps away from her until I'm at the end of the bed. I don't dare touch the bed for fear of waking her and instead cross the room, leaning back against the wall until I sink to the floor. Still a clear view of my sleeping Vi.

I hadn't heard her speak my name in almost four years. The first year was the hardest. I'd made it the hardest. I had been so sure that our love, my love could conquer it- that we could go back to normal. I'd given her time, space, but not enough. I'd begun to follow her, show up in her room, the kitchen, the lounge, anywhere she was. I'd try and talk to her, try forcing her to talk. She never said anything, anything except 'go away, Tate.' I got desperate. I started killing myself in front of her. I don't remember how many times I did it. I wanted to get a reaction, anything that would lead me to believe somewhere inside her she still cared- but I never got one. She didn't care. She didn't love me anymore. I never grasped it, but my actions began to make her unhappy, and not because I was dying, but because I was a nuisance. So I stopped, I went back to the basement- the one place she never went anymore- and I have stayed there, almost for the entirety of the last four years.

Hearing her say my name again, for a sweet second, the darkness recedes. It makes me feel like a little kid again. Like when you've done something bad and you've been punished and sent to your room but its only minutes before your mother comes in with warm toast and tea. I was never one for tea but the feeling is still the same I assume. It is an awfully warm feeling that makes me feel like I am someone else, that it was someone else who'd done those awful things and I am just me- Tate Langdon- son, brother, boyfriend. A few years ago I would have hated myself for thinking like this, for getting _the feeling_, but that's what I mean. This feeling makes me not care about any of that. It makes me wish I'd lived. It makes me wish I'd never hurt anyone. It makes me wish I had saved her, that she'd never met me. That she could be happy.

"Why?" she doesn't whisper this time, she sobs, somehow still asleep. I'd never known anyone to cry in their sleep but I can see, even from across the room, a tear sliding down her face illuminated by the moon coming through her window. I want to go to her, wake her up from whatever bad dream she's having but I can't. I'm too selfish. If I wake her now she will make me go away again and this is the first time I've seen her in too long. If I only have one night, just like this, for the rest of forever I think I can survive, I think I can do it, for her.  
>"Mom" she cries out and I find myself panicking once more, afraid Vivienne will come to her daughter's call but she doesn't. She has a new child now, a new relationship to explore with her husband. Of course, she still loves Violet, well I'd damn well hope she does, but it's different now. If she hadn't died, Violet would be an adult, she doesn't spend a lot of time with her family anymore, she doesn't spend a lot of time with anyone.<br>"Mommy, why would he" her words drift off into an inaudible mumbling and I feel like my heart is literally going to tear itself free of my body and drown me in my own juices. She has to be dreaming about me. She is dreaming about me and she is crying. Jesus Christ, Satan, Thaddeus and all things unholy. What have I done to this girl? I have to wake her up. I won't watch her suffer and I can't leave her to it either.  
>I stand on shaky legs and walk slowly, almost trance-like to the side of her bed. I don't want to frighten her but I have a feeling that I could dress up as a happy tree elf and she will still freak. Maybe even more so come to think of it.<br>"Vi?" I whisper, so softly I barely hear. I'm procrastinating- lingering in the moment, being so close.  
>I reach down to her and dare to rest my hand gently on her bare shoulder. Instant sparks are shot into my finger tips like life running straight for my veins. I've been an idiot to think I could survive without her. I love this girl and I will always love her and I don't care if she never loves me again I will wait forever.<br>"Vi, wake up" I say louder this time and I jump back in shock as her body spasms and she shoots upright in her bed.

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><p><em>To Be Continued...<em>

**AN: thanks to anyone who read this far. I am kind of obsessed with AHS at the moment and in particular Tate and Violet's relationship. I don't think the road would be easy but I do think that eventually they would find their way back to each other. I'm just going to try and let that play out. I hope you stick with me to see their story out or find another version (of the many brilliant ones on this site) that pans out the way you like.  
><em>WARNING FOR FUTURE CHAPTERS<em>: I will not write sex scenes for this couple as it was never about that for them. I have read many other fics for this couple that integrates sex into their reunion and that works for them, but I don't believe it is necessary and prefer to view this coupling on an emotional level rather than a sexual one.**


	2. Chapter 2

This chapter is probably the last. I wanted to write something that showed how both characters are going to deal with their future. I hope I have done that. I would love to write a longer fic in the future and still may do so, but I feel that in the way I've written this I have limited myself.

Anyway, to the story. I picked up right where I left Tate and Violet, this time from Violet's POV...

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><p><strong>Violet's POV<strong>

For a second I don't know where I am. I feel five years old again, waking from a nightmare. Any second now my Dad will come running in to make sure I'm okay. Except it's not a nightmare, not exactly- and my Father doesn't come. Instead, as my eyes clear and adjust to the light I find the last person I would expect stood at the end of my bed, staring at me, face alarmed.

"Vi, before you-" he reaches his palms out to me and his voice is pleading but I cut him off.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I yell at him as I realise he's been watching me sleep and that I don't know how long he's been doing it. I get this weird feeling where I'm a mix between horrifically angry and a little self conscious.

"I'm sorry, Violet. I'm sorry. I don't..." he trips over his speech, voice rising in the tragic hysteria only Tate can achieve, "this never happens. It'll be the first and last time, I promise. You just called my name and-" he seems to realise he's said something wrong because he cuts himself off and looks at me, face stricken with fear and instant regret.

I said his name? I think about this for a moment, what it means. It means he knows I was dreaming about him. A dream which confused me. It was a bitter mix of horror and heaven. Tate was there, that was the horror, of course. But in the dream I forgave him, I let it all go, I realised I didn't want an eternity alone- I chose a sick sort of heaven. It was only a dream though, reality is more painful- I can't allow myself to be that weak.

"Vi, I don't- I'll go" he tells me with red ringed eyes.

"No" I don't remember opening my mouth to form the word, or even giving the okay for my brain to send a message to my mouth to say so, but it's been said now. I can't take something like that back. Well, I could. But here, now, looking at him like he is. All self hating- all doom and gloom- all hopeless. The boy I know I loved once, stood right in front of me, not even meters away. The boy I haven't seen for five years. The boy I've thought about at least once each and every day of those five years. I can't send him away again.

I wait for him to say something, anything really. Part of me just wants to hear his voice and part of me knows that if I say anything now I'll break. This hard exterior I've created, this wall I've built between the me who cares and the me who lies about it- it'll all come crashing down. I can't afford for that to happen.

"Violet" he says my name, plain and simple but his voice croaks a little and I think he might cry and for a small moment I allow myself to believe he still cares. But how can he, how could he ever have cared? That boy, he's a monster. I have to keep reminding myself because if I don't, I-  
>"Can we talk maybe, just for tonight? <em>Can we just have tonight<em>?" his voice pleads and his steely eyes are locked with mine. I'd never been very good at saying no to Tate- there was never much I wouldn't give him. But that was before. That was when I hadn't known. I can't let him back in, even for a night. Because when you'll exist forever you start to hold onto every moment and if I do this, tonight, I know we're both capable of clinging to this for years and I don't think I could survive that.

"No, Tate" I don't need to say his name, it's totally unnecessary in fact, but I want to, just this once. "Tate" I say his name again, allowing myself a sweet taste of my past weakness.

"I still love you" he tells me and I shrug and drop his gaze, my excuse a large pack of cigarettes on my dresser. I reach over and pull one out, putting it into my mouth- careful not to let what he just said process. I need a light.

"Here" he extends his hand out to me, being careful not to make any step closer. He flicks the small lighter between his skilled fingers and I let the flame catch the end of the cigarette.

"Thanks" I say before taking a long drag. I taste nothing, feel nothing, but I let my eyes slide shut out of habit- only for a moment.

"Do you really want to do this?" I ask, removing the cigarette from my mouth and setting it on the dresser. Do _I _really want to do this? Surely, after five years, he's thought of something more than _sorry_. Surely he can give me a sane reason, one that will make it all okay. Looking at his face now- his lips turned down, his eyes darker than night and slowly filling with tears- for a split second it makes me wonder whether I even need a better reason, but then I remember what he's done.

"I do Violet, I do." He lets a tear escape. He is the only boy I've ever seen cry. The only boy I've ever known to make himself so vulnerable, open himself up so completely, without shame. I love that about him. _Loved _that.

"I know you want me to tell you why, but I- I also know you're smarter than that Violet." He's crying openly now as he slumps down on the bed beside me, pulling his knees up to his chest. His eyes never leave mine. I don't make a move away from him, but I don't move to comfort him either. "There is no reason for what I did except what you already know, you were right. I am the darkness, I'm a-" he breaks off into a sob and rubs his face with his long striped sleeve and I feel the beginning of tears in my own eyes but I blink them back and grit my teeth. He _needs_ to do this. "I'm a monster, Vi. A goddamn monster." He breaks eye contact finally as he buries his head into his hands.  
>I watch him and I find myself tracing back my memories of him. I think about the first time I'd seen him. I knew then there was something wrong with him, he was my father's patient after all, but I'd seen him and he'd smiled and I'd thought, <em>no-<em> I decided, that I could forgive it. Whatever was wrong with him, I wasn't perfect either, we could be imperfect together. Then I remember telling him he was the darkness, that he was to blame for everything and watching him break at my words. But I was wrong, he isn't a monster. At least, he wasn't always that way, it's what he's done that made him like that and I think there is only two ways this can go. Either we can spend our eternity miserable- both hating him, or I can forgive him and he can forgive himself. I don't know if I'm strong enough for that, but I decide that whether we end up together or not, I can't see him like this, I can't let him hate himself forever. I need him to stop running.

"Then why are you crying?" I ask him in a cold, calculated tone- well practiced.

"What?" he croaks, startled as he looks back up at me. His face is tragic, tear stained, red blotchy cheeks. He's never been so broken, or so beautiful.

"Monsters don't cry Tate, so why are you crying?" I need to ask him this because I need him to admit that it's a lie, it's an excuse. I need him to realise he can't hide behind that label forever. He needs to own what he's done. If he ever wanted me to be able to move past it, if there was ever a chance, he has to let it all go first.

"Because it hurts, Violet! Because I hurt! Because _I hurt you_!" he yells at me with a raspy voice, filled with confusion and pain and anger.

"No, that's not enough" I tell him in a level tone even though my breath is shallow and I feel a lump climbing up my throat.

"What more is there? I'm telling you how I feel" he pleads and tries to grab for my hand but I pull it out from under him.

"No, Tate. No, you know that's not true. Who's hurt really? _Why_ are they hurt?" I bait him cruelly, but necessarily. I want him to realise I'm not torturing him, I want him to stop and understand. But he's so upset and so mad that he can't see past my words.

"Everyone! I hurt _everyone_!" he yells at me, "I hurt that prick, I hurt those kids, I hurt everyone, _I hurt your Mother_" he chokes on his words and falls off the bed onto his knees and I go with him before I realise what I'm doing. I turn him to face me and wrap my arms around his shoulders.

"I did it- I did it all because I _could_ and I'm so- I'm so sorry Violet. There is nothing more I can say and I know its not enough but I'm not _him_ anymore." he cries into my neck as I pull him closer, "I've never felt like him- not when I'm with you. _He isn't me_." He whispers angrily and I feel for the first time like he's starting to understand, not that he is blameless, but that he is broken, fragmented into two very different people. One I'll always hate and the other... the other I might one day be able to love again.

"I know, Tate, I know" I whisper in the darkness. I believe him and not because he's crying or because I'm holding him or even because I'd just dreamed a similar scenario only minutes ago. It doesn't change what he did just the same as I can't change what I've done in the past. He is not a monster, he is not darkness, surely he was once but now those are just excuses, just names for us both to hide behind. But if he's really done hiding, if he's ready to try and fix himself, I'll be there, _we_ are done hiding and we might stand a chance.

"I love you so much, for always" he whispers in a shaky voice, his lips brushing against the skin on my neck softly.

"I know" I tell him again. If I choose to let myself love Tate, forgive him, then I have to forgive who he is now. I have to forgive that he has another side and hope and pray and more then anything _help_ him keep that other side, the darkness locked away. I don't know if I can ever forgive what he's done, but my Mother once told me you can't choose who you love and I sure as hell can't choose not to love him.

Tate tried to save me once, I owe him the same.

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><p><strong>AU NOTE:<em> Thanks for reading :)<em>**


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